


I Tell Myself I'm Not Your Lover

by ZenyZootSuit



Series: The Rubble and Our Sins [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Cheating, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, Multi, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, non-graphic childbirth, post-partum depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22764088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenyZootSuit/pseuds/ZenyZootSuit
Summary: It wasn't as if Luke didn't know what he was doing. He did, very well. It's just that he didn't care. Except for the part, of course, where he did.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: The Rubble and Our Sins [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616809
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	I Tell Myself I'm Not Your Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Luke's POV of the events in Over My Dead Body, but can be read as a stand alone.

*******

It wasn’t as if Luke didn’t know what he was doing. He couldn’t lie, not even to himself, that he was fucking a married man. Who had a committed partner…who happened to be his sister…. And a kid…who happened to be his nephew... Yes, he knew all of that, it was just that… well, he didn’t care.

Except for the part where he did. Except for the part where the shame threatened to overwhelm him every time he set his eyes on Han Solo. Yet he couldn’t stop.

And he didn’t want to.

*******

His aunt and uncle, the only parents he had ever know, had just died the first time he set his eyes on Han Solo. He had followed old Ben Kenobi into the filthy dive bar on the bad side of Mos Eisley (not…that there was a good side), repeating to himself that he was a strong, independent person, that he had been more than ready to up and leave the farm and the town he had grown up on and never gone more than twenty miles from before, that he would be fine, that he was—

 _Gay_ , he thought, as Ben Kenobi introduced him to the handsome smuggler with brown hair, a backwater drawl, and a disarming smile. _I am gay. So, so gay._

He fell head over heels from there and the whole thing was doomed before it even started.

Han Solo was in love with Princess Leia Organa (who, in an…amusing turn of events turned out to be Luke’s twin sister) the moment he set eyes on her.

“You think her and a guy like me—“ Han asked him as they shot through hyperspace.

“No!” Luke had snapped in reply.

“Jealous,” Han had teased him.

Luke frowned and turned away. _Not of you, of her._

Then Luke had blown up the Death Star and Han Solo dragged him into a maintenance closet the first chance he got and kissed the breath out of him.

“Han, please, _please—_ “ Luke had begged, and Han responded in kind.

“Anything you want kid, anything you want.”

And Luke Skywalker lost his virginity to the smuggler, fucked against the door, his arms wrapped tight around the other man’s neck.

 _Heaven_ , he thought. _He was in heaven. Everything, everything was going to be just fine. Han loved him, he loved him—_

(Decades later, Luke’s metal hand clenched tight around his knee as he rubbed his human hand over his face at the unwanted memory. _Foolish child.)_

Han didn’t speak to him, didn’t even seek him out, for three weeks after that. It should have been obvious that Han did not feel the same way about Luke as Luke did about Han. Or, at least, that Han cared more for Leia than he did Luke.

Luke almost, _almost_ , let him go. Then Han saved his life on Hoth and Luke was done for, never to recover.

And then Leia saved Han from Jabba the Hutton Tatooine and Han was done for...never to recover.

The war ended, and Luke forced himself to bite back bitter jealousy as he observed the happy couple on Endor after watching his father die. Such things shouldn’t bother him. He had bigger things to deal with and jealousy was unbecoming of the last Jedi.

If only that had made it easier to deal with.

Leia got pregnant not longer after that and Luke spent hours a day meditating on exactly why that made him green with envy.

She had a son, Ben, and the joy the boy brought with him eased Luke’s burned feelings for a time, but a child cannot fix everything.

 _I am a Master,_ Luke thought miserably as he mediated at one of the long forgotten Jedi Temples on some Outer Rim planet he couldn’t remember the name of. _Why can’t I let this go?_

Luke was most ashamed of when and how it started. Ben was only a few months old, and the happy couple’s relationship was understandably strained by their colicky newborn. So Han came to Luke.

To vent, he said. Then they got drunk and it ‘just happened’. Han had just ‘accidentally’ ended up fucking Luke against the wall in the Jedi’s sparse quarters.

 _Bullshit_ , Luke thought. Han had come prepared, with a condom and lube. They may have been drunk off their asses on Corellian Brandy (Han from the stress and Luke because he could only take so much “ugh my perfect life without you is so hard” from the love of his life who spurned him sober).

From there, for a full nine years, it never stopped.

Until Luke got pregnant.

The time that got him pregnant ended up being their last time. They had gotten sloppy over the years, forgoing a condom more often than not despite the fact that Luke would not have been surprised if Han slept around (or maybe spite was another troublesome emotion unbecoming of a Jedi Master) and that Luke himself did occasionally take on other partners (and he would deny in court that they all looked like Han).

It was rough and fast and messy, same as it always was. The top ties of Han’s shirt undone, his pants pushed to his mid thighs as he tore Luke’s tunic open and shoved his pants down and off one leg before lifting him onto a desk and fucking the breath out of him.

Luke wrapped his arms around Han’s neck and muffled his moans in the man’s shoulder as his lover’s cock pounded irregularly over his prostate.

 _We’re not lovers,_ he thought, biting his lip to stifle a cry. _We’re not in love_.

_Oh, but we are._

Han rarely ever kissed him once they started fucking. Luke always wanted to, but never initiated it.

That time he did. That time he lifted his head and grabbed Han by the jaw, pressing their lips together harshly as he came with a hand wrapped tight around his cock to the point of pain, with Han following soon behind him.

Luke kept kissing him even as Han pulled out of him and the stickiness became uncomfortable.

 _One last kiss_ , he kept thinking. _Just one more_.

Han finally pulled away from him, saying vaguely that he had to get back.

“Stay,” Luke said impulsively, making no move to get up from where he sat on the desk or to righten his disheveled state.

Han eyed him curiously. “…Alright, kid.”

Luke had never felt happier.

Everything fell apart mere weeks later, after days of sickness put his blood sugar through the floor and made him pass out cold in front of his sister. She promptly dragged him to the medical wing where an ill-fated blood test determined he was pregnant.

He hadn’t known he could get pregnant.

While Leia and the doctor discussed having other men in the family tested to avoid a similarly unwelcome surprise, Luke debated what he would do.

Made aware of it, he could already feel the tiny Force-signature inside him. As such, getting rid of it was not an option. The very idea of it made him nauseous.

He thought about playing it off as how Leia assumed it had happened: an accident from a one-night stand.

Han’s reaction blew it.

“You’re WHAT?!” That part was believable and so very Han. “Did you know?”

Had literally anyone else said it in any other way, it could have been passed off as an innocent question. But Han’s blatant, multi-layered terror, slight fury and accusation in his tone, and his Force-sensitive wife gave him away.

Luke shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he watched his whole world explode.

Leia looked between the two of them, horror dawning slowly on her face as she put together what had happened.

“How dare you...” she finally said, eyes fixed on her brother, before leaving with a cold flash of her robes, completely ignoring Han’s spluttered apologies.

Silence permeated the room with a sense of finality for a long time before Han spoke again.

“Did you you know?”

“What do you mean ‘did I know’?” Luke asked without opening his eyes as he rested his forehead on a hand.

“Did you do this on purpose?”

It took Luke a decent amount of time to fully process that statement. He looked up at Han slowly, suddenly furious. “To do what, exactly?”

“Don’t give me that,” Han hissed, equally as furious. “You’ve been in love with me for years, I’m not stupid! Did you do this to —I don’t know— _ensnare_ me or something—“

“Get out.” Luke wasn’t even aware that he’d spoken until he heard his own voice. Han opened his mouth to speak again, but Luke beat him to it. “I said get out!” he snarled before using the Force to throw Han out of the room and slam the door.

Finally alone with the mess he had made, Luke broke down in tears. He wouldn’t stop for three years.

 _What have I done?_ he thought then, pregnant and alone, his family and friends hating him for what he’d done. It burned him how little blame Han got from those who knew because it was ‘so like him’.

 _What have I done?_ he thought many months later, screaming his throat raw as he labored. The ship was so small and his nephew was just in the other room and he had already suffered enough as a result of this pregnancy. Luke had to stop screaming, he _had to_ he was getting so tired, but it hurt _so bad_.

 _I deserve this_ , he thought, so very cold on the bed, but at least the pain had stopped. Someone was screaming. Two people, a woman and a man. Was that his name they were yelling? He couldn’t really hear them. The Force was beckoning him, just one more step, he could already feel the peace...

Then his world exploded again in pain.

He awoke in the hospital, recovering from severe blood loss, third degree tears, electrical burns, a cracked sternum, punctured lung, and several broken ribs, the latter four injuries from the CPR Leia had performed on him to keep him alive.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” she told him when they were alone, tears in her eyes. “Don’t you dare ever try to die on me again!”

“I’m sorry Leia,” he said, looking down at his lap, for more than just dying.

She brushed the hair out of his face. “I forgive you, Luke,” and she hugged him.

He sagged into her arms. “How?”

“You died. In front of me. Under my hands. I was angry before, hell, I was furious. I swore I’d never forgive you.” She hugged him tighter. “But then you weren’t breathing and your hands were so cold and it all seemed like such a _stupid_ thing to be angry about and—“ She broke off and pulled back, kissing his forehead. “So don’t you ever do that again! Got it?”

Luke did not deserve his sister, of that he was certain.

Things continued to go downhill from there.

Luke couldn’t sleep. When he did, he would dream of blood and pain and cold. He was terrified of being cold.

(His OBGYN feared he suffered from post traumatic stress from the birth. He brushed her off.)

When he held his baby girl, Rey, he could only think that she deserved better. Better than him, someone who couldn’t bond with his own child. Better than Han, who didn’t even try.

 _What have I done?_ he thought as Han stormed away after their blowout fight, as he opened the closet door to find his rattled nephew holding his whimpering newborn.

 _What have I done?_ he wondered, as his nephew stood beside him as they surveyed the Temple, twelve young children running around.

What have you done? So many people asked him as it came to light that he had neglected fourteen children. They said he’d been doing it for years. It couldn’t have possibly been that long. He couldn’t remember, but then again he also couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten out of bed.

 _What have I done?_ he thought as fourteen year old Ben proved himself to be more of an adult than 38 year old Luke. Luke tried to help him, tried to support him, but in the end all he did was make things worse.

“How could you let him do that?!” Leia screamed at him. “He’s a child! He couldn’t possibly make that decision on his own!”

Oh, he could and he had. Whether or not it was the right decision remained to be seen. He watched helplessly as Ben slowly drowned, but had no idea how to save him.

 _What have I done?_ he wondered as he watched his Temple burn.

 _How could I have let this happen?_ he wondered on that Forceforsaken island as 20 year old Rey stood in front of him, a Scavenger, with no idea who she was.

 _What have I done_? he wondered as he saw how far Ben Solo had fallen. _My fault,_ he thought.

How he had ever become a legend, he had no idea.

El Fin

**Author's Note:**

> In all my years as a Star Wars fan, I have been truly astounded by the distinct lack of Skysolo fics dealing with the concept of infidelity. As such, I thought I would add to/start the pile. Might elaborate on some parts of this later, I haven't decided yet. I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think and/or if there are certain glossed-ver sections you would like to hear more from Luke on!


End file.
